Stone Dance
by Sonsasu the Gray Daiconi
Summary: As the heartless Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, powerful Arch Mage of the Mages Guild and Champion of Cyrodiil, he could handle anything The Nine threw at him...well almost anything. Read FFN profile.
1. Chapter One

**Stone Dance**

**By, Sonsasu**

**Chapter One**

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Sitting quite comfortably, an old Dunmer continued to read Darkest Darkness, while outside a thunderstorm raged, beating upon the glass windows with ample water drops. Howling winds shoved against the closed doors of the West Weald Inn, causing all to fall silent, pausing in their jolly laughter and loud chatting to glance up, expressions of mild concern marring their features. However, once the sounds had died down, they would look to one another and then laugh all the harder for petty fears, this inn had stood strong for many a year, no need to worry just yet.

The Dark Elf who sat so silently in the shadowy corner of the inn, garbed in the Dark Brotherhood Robes, with a single candle lit, illuminating his ebon face, had never once ceased in his reading during the loud crashes of thunder. The rumbling roars making the entire inn shake and those in it fall deathly silent, their nervous tension filling the room with a heavy stress, but fear had no place in this Dunmer's heart. When you have complied with the wishes of the Night Mother and the will of the Dread Father for so long, nothing could frighten you, when you have practiced the arts of all magic, necromancy included, nothing can surprise or stir you to fear something as minor as a thunderstorm.

Reaching for the last page of his book, Lu'kiza halted in mid motion and looked up, standing next to the fire where the deer's head hung, a Khajiit cub stood shivering, drenched, and dripping wet, its tail wrapped tightly around trembling knees. Frowning slightly, he continued to watch the very small Khajiit kitten, noting the soaked golden fur gleaming in the dance of firelight and the start of brown dreadlocks, the tiny creature's head would have come no higher then mid thigh on any average Dunmer. The emaciated cub inched unsteadily towards the fire, the adult sackcloth shirt clinging to its frail body, dark material worn and torn in multiple places, yielded no warmth to the one who wore it. Lu'kiza cocked his head slightly, how had this kitten slipped past his acute senses, let alone opened the door without anyone noticing?

Another clap of thunder sounded outside, its booming volume drowning out all noise, a blazing flash of light flooding the inn, passing through the dark teal windows, blinding nearly everyone. Luckily, Lu'kiza had lifted his robed arm, book still in hand, but once pained groans floated from tables near and far, he lowered it, slowly blinking multi colored spots from his vision, he felt, much to an immense internal astonishment, a trembling form pressed against his legs. Wiggling now encumbered toes and looking down, he found the kitten, half-sitting upon his boots of soft black leather, its head pressed to Lu'kiza's knees, thin hands clutching folds of thick fabric. As if sensing the weight of a gaze, the Khajiit cub lifted its head, wide eyes of unusual blue encountering his stunned crimson stare, but, within that small stretch of time, the West Weald Inn had managed to resume life at full force, snapping Lu'kiza back into reality.

The cub mewled pitifully and the sound twisted something in his chest, it was an uncomfortable sensation, unknown to the world weary Dark Elf, this burning not unlike the need to protect or fulfill a given order. Reaching down, he brushed long gloved fingers across the ear tips of the Khajiit kitten and it was this simple motion that informed him…he was at a complete loss as to what to do. The cub blinked, apparently surprised from Lu'kiza's gentle touch, mewing again, it rose on unsteady feet before shocking the Dunmer to wits end. Using handfuls of cloth to scale him like a miniature mountain, he watched with a feeling of helplessness as the golden furred kitten finally reached its goal… Doubtful, Lu'kiza stiffened, stunned when his new lap ornament placed a cold wet nose on his chin, sniffing, but once finished the Khajiit began to tuck itself tighter onto the limited space of warmth. A fine chill radiated from the cub, scarcely penetrating the specially woven robe, where beads of water rolled from the damp fur, dripping from his lap, splashing onto the wooden floor, unnoticed. Gently placing the book on the table and pushing it to the side, beyond the melting candle, Lu'kiza possessed nine other copies of Darkest Darkness in his private library, let someone else have it…

The outside world diminished, ceasing to exist, the commotion and voices melting away, leaving the two in a pleasant cocoon of silence, blood red eyes drifted over the golden crown of the cub, perhaps it was Azura, collecting on Lu'kiza's dept… The sounds and smells washed back like a crashing wave, jerking him like a physical blow, his arms immediately winding around the kitten, cradling it close to his chest, prepared to lie down his life at the smallest sign of peril. Lifting his head and taking in every detail of the room, he found nothing out of the ordinary, but the sensation of danger prickled the fine hairs along his neck, it was time to leave, storm or no storm. Maintaining his hold with one arm circled around the purring Khajiit, he reached within the warm confines of his robe pocket, withdrawing one-hundred gold Septims, allowing them to clatter onto the small table of dark mahogany, he had more then enough gold to spare.

Rising from the chair, his arm tucked beneath the cub's bottom, its thin arms draped around Lu'kiza's neck, he strode across the room, boots of treated leather mute with every step, his robe blending in with the shadows of the inn. It was only until he paused at the door, where resting high on the opposite facing walls, were two candle sconces, casting down a yellow light and it was with this illumination that a Nord took notice of him. "Are ye mad Dunmer, don't ye know a storm is raging outside?" From the human's disrespectful tone short barks of laughter erupted from each table, filling the room with a false merriment, the deep voice that provoked the agitating sounds, ground on Lu'kiza's constantly limited amount of tolerance. Steadily the air darkened, dropping swiftly to an arctic temperature, smelling faintly of copper, crackling with the low hum of Destruction magic, like a fire dying, all fell deathly quite, one by one, both in awe and in fear…

A cold wet nose pressed against his cheek and a plaintive mew, thunderous in the dense silence, put an unwilling staunch on the hungry elevation of power, a strange sense of tranquillity placing a seal on its endless aphotic depth. Composing his manner and taking a deep breath, he spoke softly, each word precise, his naturally deep voice sending shivers slithering down the craven spines of all, "you would do well to hold your tongue whenever in my presence…or I shall remove it the next time I see you." Calmly the air regressed to its original shade and the unpleasant scent withered to memory, the biting cold replaced by their artificial warmth born from the hearth. The sense of dread that flourished from each of the humans created a malicious smile, which crept along his face, thankfully hidden by the fall of his black hood. Such low-blooded mortals should always devote respect to their betters, especially a short-tempered Dunmer and the heartless Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.

Waving his hand in an idle arc, brought forth from years of practice, he cast a spell of telekinesis, like having invisible strings attached to each fingertip, Lu'kiza curled his fingers, tugging open the heavy oak doors with a flawless grace. An intense blast of ice-cold air howled past his robe, bellowing the heavy cloth like thin silk, the powerful raindrops stinging his exposed flesh like tips of daggers, the screaming winds extinguishing all of the flickering candles, causing the main fire to gutter and hiss as its life was diminished. Brushing his hand over the kitten's face, its frightened mewl unable to raise above the violent blasts of air, however, the meaning did not fall on deft ears, Lu'kiza cast another spell, smiling as a brief purple glow covered the cub's entire body, a spell of reflection would be the kitten's momentary shield.

Not bothering to favor them with a backward glance, Lu'kiza strode out, allowing the darkness of the stone streets to envelop them like a velvet curtain. Now cowering within the room, illuminated by the faint glow of firelight, the last thing the humans saw was the angry crimson glint of his eyes as the doors slammed shut, rattling the West Weald Inn from the sheer force of strength…

In all the long years of peace and quite, resting blissfully in the city of Skingrad, the people had nearly forgotten who the old Dark Elf was…

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**Disclaimer-I do not own Oblivion**

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© 2007 I do own the name Lu'kiza and I claim my chars that I use

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**I hope you liked this story**

**It's my first time writing on Oblivion**


	2. Chapter Two

**Stone Dance**

**By, Sonsasu**

**Chapter Two**

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Vehement gusts shoved Lu'kiza with invisible hands, each blow striving to knock him over, the rain descending in harsh sheets, spattering the brick road with needle thin drops, even so he stubbornly trudged on, keeping the Khajiit tightly tucked in the crook of his arm, pressed to his chest. Walking past the Fighters Guild to his left, the drenched robe revealing the rise and fall of his legs, he let out a growl of annoyance, because of the water every standing or hanging lamp was out, filled to the brim with liquid, leaving his required path cloaked in ebony. Waving his free hand in an angry arc, he cast a spell of Nighteye, which quickly displayed the world in an azure hue, illuminating the empty road to crystal clarity as he continued onward.

Passing the Mages Guild on the left and the Colovian Traders store on the right, it was at midway he felt the jerking motions sobbing. This made him stop immediately, not caring about the fact, he was right in the middle of an ankle deep puddle, standing in the groove where the street became a three-way, one leading to more houses and stores, the other to the city's statue. The cub's small frame shook, little hands clenching the sodden fabric in a death grip, normally such displays of weakness and fear disgusted Lu'kiza with a passion, so why did this creature incite a need to protect…? Placing a hand upon the back of its skull, he cradled the kitten closer, saddened that words of comfort would not be capable of lifting above the roars of the storm…

A faint sigh escaped him as he resumed walking again, all the while running his fingers through the tiny dreadlocks, brushing the long ears of the Khajiit, seeking to distract it. During the short pause of movement, the ferocious winds had considerably died down, though the rain still fell in painful sheets, striking him with amazing accuracy, but so long as the cub was well, it did not concern him. A clap of thunder split the sky above, its booming voice like a god's mighty whip cracking against stone, the sound reverberating through each of the high brick walls, and shaking the ground beneath Lu'kiza's feet like an earthquake. The unexpected flash of bright light caught him off guard, stealing both sight and ability to hear, his inner world reeling as though someone had spun him repeatedly in a circle, leaving him staggering backwards, before forcing himself to halt.

Struggling to blink past the white glow that assaulted his vision, he pressed an arm over aching eyes, grumbling beneath his breath about not having anticipated such a thing during this storm… With his spell of Nighteye, everything was brighter, every shadow betrayed, every detail noticeable, right down to the veins on a drifting leaf, clear as day within the boundaries of midnight, but painful to look upon the soft glow of a candle, and agonizing whenever the illumination of day arose from its slumber. His acute hearing was also an inconvenient blessing and curse, usually inflicting intense headaches from the ability, at the same time he could hear the soft flutter of a feather landing across the room, then nearly faint should someone shout next to him…

Lowering his arm, Lu'kiza gritted his teeth, if this was a joke The Nine thought to play on him, it was in poor taste, the frightened whimpers of the Khajiit twisted his gut like a comb twirling in tangled hair, tormenting him, letting him know the extent of how helpless he was… Broad shoulders slumped and a weary smile appeared, "You have used me time and time again, directing me through a maze of prophesies filled with gaping holes of lies and truths, risking my life to fulfill your own means, wrenching my heart in so many directions it never fails to amaze me that I still live. Teasing me with friendships I would give my life to keep, then tearing them from a broken grasp…have you not tortured me enough for your pleasures? Relent on this damned storm…you owe me that much…" Every word spoken in a soft whisper, Lu'kiza had lifted the Khajiit closer, its head buried in the curve of his neck. The black hood had steadily managed inch back, exposing the fall of silvery hair, pale locks drenched from tireless rain, and without a doubt, the length of it would soon be turning into ringlet curls…why had he not tied it back this morning…

A low rumble of thunder stirred overhead, its throaty purr much like trampling hooves of horses from afar, and in less time than it takes to blink an eye, a whistling breeze carried the teasing sigh of a chuckle, brushing against Lu'kiza's ears like a lover's cresses. The intensity of rain abated within a few seconds, leaving a drenched Dunmer and frightened kitten under the sudden lazy cascade of raindrops, the spell of Nighteye revealing each gleaming star of water as it fell, splashing onto the dark gray stones of road. Lifting his head to stare at the low hanging clouds of blackish purple he frowned, Gods were never that easy to convince…they did not indulged the whims of mortals unless it suited them…what did they stand to gain from this situation? The quivering of the Khajiit had quailed with the disappearance of thunder and rain, leaving only soft sobbing to echo faintly inside of Lu'kiza's mind. Slipping his thumb into the curled palm of the cub's hand, he drew its attention as he placed a cheek against the tiny fingers, teary eyes of light sapphire meeting with crimson.

Perhaps he was indeed becoming soft in his old age…and oh yes…this would most certainly bode ill with his newest Speaker…

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**Disclaimer-I do not own Oblivion**

**© 2007 I own the name Lu'kiza and I claim my chars that I use**

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**Thank you too...**

**Le Pomme De Sang**

**Warlordomega**

**The Defensive End**

**Kytten**

**The Ginger Ninja**

**The Oracle Dragon**

**SkoomaAddict -360-**


	3. Chapter Three

**Thank you to…**

**SkoomaAddict -360-**

**The Oracle Dragon**

**The Ginger Ninja**

**Lunatic Pandora1**

**spedclass**

**The Defensive End**

**Ange De Mort La Pomme De Sang**

**Dragon Scales 13**

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**Stone Dance**

**By, Sonsasu**

**Chapter Three**

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A subtle breeze carrying chilled raindrops sprinkled Lu'kiza's exposed face, trickling down his cheeks with a touch lighter than silk, creating an itch that pleaded for attention. By the time he passed All Things Alchemical, the maddening desire to rub his face was vexing enough to make his nose twitch, free hand clench, and the very tips of his ears burn. It would never do for the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood to claw at his face because of a mere itch, but it was driving him to near insanity! The cub wiggled against him, slipping frail arms to their previous position around his neck, head still tucked in the heated curve. A brilliant idea sprang to mind, turning and nuzzling his face into the thin golden fur, he repressed a sigh of bliss as the need to scratch dissipated.

The Khajiit rendered no protest, instead it released a delighted mewl, nuzzling him in return, curling a slender tail along the robed arm cradling its bottom. Lifting his face away, the corners of his mouth twitched, striving to transform into a smile, and so intent on keeping his expression neutral, it scarcely registered that he was nearing his manor. At least not until the wet, sickly sweet scent of flowers assaulted his nose, stinging it with invisible particles. Peering upward, he briefly observed the wooden sign of Hammer and Tongs swing lazily in the sighing winds, heavily encumbered with vines of Morning Glory. Its chipping wood slightly protected from the force of violent elements beneath a stone balcony overlooking an age battered wooden door.

The smithy stood several feet away from the popular alchemy store, located on the same side of separate buildings. Gracefully sidestepping a puddle as he went by, a thought rekindled itself. There was an outstandingly large crack in his Imperial Dragon shield, requiring repair at the end of this week, a feat only possible in the immense heat of a forge. Unfortunately, said store belonged to a very easily angered woman, Lu'kiza relinquished a soft sigh. Asking to borrow something from Agnete the Pickled was the same as asking Sithis if he could borrow a cup of sugar, both choices possessing the same suicidal level of impossible difficulty. Yet avoiding the seemingly constant hungover Nord was of little use, so eventually a hefty bribe would have to suffice in soothing things over for a day's use of her forge.

Elegant snow-white eyebrows knitted together in a frown, since the storm had faded to a shadow of its former glory, he could now hear the faint echoes of heavy boots splashing in near flawless sync with his own strides. Because of the gentle rainfall, he noted there was a steady click of water striking metal or perhaps glass armor. There were at least two of them, maybe another in the distance, undoubtedly carrying weapons of some kind. The old Dunmer smothered an agitated sigh, peering down at the cub, he knew by the steady breathing, was fast asleep. Why did trouble always catch him at the most inopportune times?

Halting but scant feet away from the awaiting entrance of his home, Lu'kiza turned, facing the unknown stalkers. Amusingly, they decided to remain in the open, leaving nothing more than four paces to separate them from danger. This asinine decision revealed both age and skill, for only young ignorant imbeciles would boldly take on an enemy of unidentified skill. His spell of Night Eye unveiled a heavily muscled Orc, standing directly center in the stone path, equipped from head to toe in steel armor. The fine craft of metal bore delicate details, swirling designs firmly etched into the pale gray alloy, which often made his fingers curl with the hunger to examine and trace them.

Deep auburn clasps made with beautiful leather, that bound the mail together were obviously straining, struggling to survive beneath the immense pressure of their giant wearer. The stiff belt, placed on its final hole appeared near ready to rend itself asunder, the poor chest strap fairing no better. It was actually bowing outward, pushed to its breaking limits by the broad torso beneath, in fact, every visible strap screamed from the sheer weight forced upon them. Armor as lovingly crafted as that should never have to endure sadistically brutal conditions. Thus, if things did not get out of hand, he would take the precious pieces home and scrutinize them later.

Smiling with just the faintest twist of generous lips, Lu'kiza relished in a deeply rooted habit of pleasurable greed. Even during the short years of youth, he enjoyed collecting whatever captured his interminable interest and lusting heart, be it living or inanimate. Eying the unique hilt that arose from behind the Orc's massive shoulder, he knew by the flickering glow, flashing from ivory to scarlet like a frantic heartbeat, announced it to be heavily enchanted. Certainly not a claymore, for no blade rasped against the water-besotted stones, nor was it a hammer, simply put because the hilt was a hairsbreadth away from being too short. No, instead, a double-headed Daedric axe shone at Lu'kiza, a promising boon, which would serve momentarily to replete the tireless demand for rarely encountered items.

Well, at least the insect possessed some semblance of taste in weapons…

Lowering his eyelids to half-mast, he allowed the minor smile to fade, it was on more than one occasion, a question elevated itself to wonder about the unknown combination of properties it took to form such an incredibly powerful metal. A mysterious ore, created as though some solemn God united obsidian with eternally scorched iron, melding the two together in a harmonious marriage, giving life where there was none. That existence then took on the shape of perfectly resistant heavy armor and astonishing weapons born to slaughter, all the while never once separating the original catalysts, leaving them open to the naked eye. The glorious texture, smooth to even the most calloused of touches, forever ice cold, no matter how warm the fingers grasping it, would constantly scorch its mortal wielder. That unparalleled work of art…may as well be going home with him too.

After all, he owned a near complete collection of Daedric items that adorned his walls as trophies, each figure a single testament to the many portals closed in Cyrodiil. Alas, two years back, a masterful thief decided to sample his home whilst he was away on a Dark Brotherhood errand. Apparently, the esteemed axe was the only thing he or she desired from Lu'kiza's massive assortments of items. He could have easily tracked down the suicidal burglar, yet the incredible shock from someone _actually_ slipping past his twenty spell wards, two servants, lovers, and highly aggressive _pet_, left him in a stupefied state of utter amusement. Fortunately, the stolen weapon held no sentimental value, so other than a minor blow to pride, such an astounding accomplishment deserved the ill begotten prize as a reward.

Therefore, all he required now…was an axe, its enchantments merely a bonus.

Crimson eyes drifted to encounter dusky gold that reflected murderess intent, focused solely on the sleeping form of the Khajiit kitten, narrow slashes of pupils drawn wide to see in the darkness. The Orc's helm obscured most of his dingy green face, but not the grotesque nose common to his race, nor the savage sneer of his mouth, naturally protrusive teeth the tinge of a loathsome yellow corruption... The bored expression marring Lu'kiza's slightly aged face melted away, replaced by a calm mask of merciless malevolency, if he could distinguish natural colors beyond the azure hue, then the spell was wearing off. Losing the ability to decipher precise movements in the dark would not be a problem, instead it would prove to be beneficial, mayhap tilt the scales of chance in the misfortunate fetchers' favor. He could exploit this opportunity for a graciously trivial stretch before a warm bath.

Smiling viciously, his crimson gaze glided to the second wretch, standing infolded in the concealment of shadows cast by the towering buildings. A remarkably tall female, slender body clad in a deep royal blue gown that hugged her every curve, with a low cut bodice daring the wondering eye to travel further. Whirling amber patterns, intricately sown into each of the hems gave it a graceful air of nobility, while the displayed golden flesh would entice man or mer into behaving as beasts. To the sagacious old Dunmer, she appeared more as a meretricious mage of inadequate skill, relying on enamoring the opposite sex to manipulate them for power. As he absorbed the enthralling perspective she presented, he spied a silver dagger at her hip, along with a wooden mage's staff clinging to her back.

Overall, the young woman elicited a ravishing picture of beauty, and without question, she had performed the exact spell as he had cast on the Khajiit. How else would such a fine garment remain unaffected by the harsh weather, and the one wearing it appear as though just dressed? The Altmer reclining against the light post portrayed an illusion of placidity, with both arms loosely crossed beneath her breasts, long fingered hands gripping each elbow. He watched as she tilted her head to the side, thick mane of white gold hair sliding over one shoulder, steel gray eyes regarding Lu'kiza and the cub in a weary manner, their gleaming depths laced with something akin to pity. _"Oh my…how beautifully touching…she feels…concern for you…and for the poor little beast you carry," _a breathy voice whispered through his mind, hidden amusement buried beneath its ominous velvet tone.

Scarcely restraining the impulse of groaning aloud, he settled for clenching his jaw, _"why must you always make a comment…and I thought I requested you to remain mute until we were home…"_ The icy weight that constantly hovered inside the brink of his consciousness did not immediately recede. However, a sensation of sulking emanating from the hidden being, _"so cruel…you never appreciate me…filthy old Dunmer…perhaps I should sing to cheer you up…?" _Lu'kiza sucked in a sharp breath, coughing quietly as raindrops suspended upon the tip of his nose shot up along with the sudden drag of air, stinging the overly tender flesh during their uncomfortable path down his throat. _"That isn't necessary…the last time you sang was at my Skingrad sanctuary meeting, I couldn't follow the trail of conversation because you only know an off-key version about some flying Cliff Racer…that poor Speaker still thinks I'm going to kill him every time I have to see him!"_

Invisible frigid lips teased the delicate rim of his left ear, and then a sensually hot tongue flicked against the pointed tip, creating a faint shiver to dart down his spine. _"Well you __**were**__ glaring throughout the entire meeting…" _an urge to roll his eyes came and went, _"only because you gave me a headache with your shrieking!" _A ghostly laugh gently brushed past his cheek, accompanied by remarkably solid fingers clinching on each of his shoulders, _"you complained about being bored…I simply filled in the time," _the petulant desire to stomp a foot in pure frustration almost overcame him. "_You know damn well I didn't want your sing-…!"_ The sound of a sinister chuckle like rocks being ground together snapped his wondering attention span back to present time.

Flicking naught but his gaze to rest on the repulsive Orc, he found that rumbling laugh to be exceedingly bothersome. Where it might have intimidated a lesser individual, the ludicrous attempt for attention merely fell on jaded ears, completely wasted on the _still_ arguing Dunmer… Regrettably, the small bundle clasped within the tight shelter of his arms was not immune to its deliberate purpose. The feathery touch of its yawn stirred the finer hairs along Lu'kiza's neck, mixing sensations with the continually falling rain. Fervent breath and unpleasantly crisp water created a shudder to tease his lithe frame, further rousing the Khajiit from its brusque slumber.

"I see the tone of my voice can still recall you from dreaming," as though someone transmuted yielding flesh to quaking marble, the kitten released its hold from around his neck. Its breathing no longer remained steadfast, but rather a frantic rising and falling animated the emaciated chest, expression of utter dread and anxiety affixed to its feline face. Without even fluttering an eyelid, the Khajiit turned, unwilling desire plain in the stiff movement. Confronted by a living nightmare that embodied every fear born into one physical being, would perhaps describe the way it looked upon the Orc. A pathetic sound emerged, that not even a whimper could match the tone, faint broken screaming, made weak and breathless.

Tearless sobbing came next, the kitten's mouth trembling, desperately trying to bury deeper against Lu'kiza, forcing limbs to further contract to a frail body, seeking as if to escape in shrinking.

_Never_, not once in his entire life had he ever felt such a slow seething rage, incinerating just beneath his skin, enshrouded inside his ribcage, devouring the calm masquerade portrayed on his face. Glove-covered fingers shaking with controlled fury, cradled the back of its skull, lacing into short dreadlocks. The tranquil volume of his voice did not betray the inner turmoil growing within, "enlighten me, what is it that you've accomplished to invoke such terror in _my_-" he swiftly covered his falter, "-this cub's heart?"

Apparently, the fetcher possessed no qualm in reiterating past actions, "you aren't going to live beyond this night Dunmer, so there's no harm in telling..."

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**To be continued…**

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**Disclaimer-I do not own Oblivion**

**© 2007 I own the name Lu'kiza, also I claim my chars that I use**


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